ID me BItch!

I purchased a bottle of wine at the grocery store yesterday and didn't even get carded. It has been a mere year since my 21st birthday and apparently I have already surpassed the "she looks under," category. While there was a time that this sort of free pass would have elated me, now it seems a bit anticlimactic. Not to sound like a 90 lb girl complaining about her obesity, but there are times when I feel just a little over the hill. I'm not launching into a quarter-life crisis or anything, I just think its strange how life flies by so fast. One minute I am anxiously awaiting a doorman to ignore the fact that the picture on my id looks nothing like me, and the next I am basically expected to order a drink each time I sit down in a restaurant. What comes next? A hip replacement?

In reality, everyone complains about getting old. Hell my grandma talks about her 20s with the same nostalgia that Lindsay Lohan talks about blowing coke off Sam Ronson's err... vinyl (too soon?). It is so easy to reminisce about a time in the past that seemed to make you happy. After all, in the grand scheme of things you don't remember how much it sucked to get grounded for missing curfew, only how much fun it was to get drunk with your friends before a friday football game. This is why it's important to just appreciate where you are in the present, especially when the present is somewhere in between a keg stand and a martini? Kegtini? (ouch meem that was just bad)

Anyway, the whole thing about getting older is that you really can't even tell when the switch went off. The transition between different stages of life are as hazy as Clay Aiken's sexual identity. Its not exactly clear at what pinnacle point an individual becomes an adult. Yet at a certain point, one's childhood simply gets discarded, kinda like the tie dye and hemp necklaces I threw out of my closet before coming to college. Its little events like this one, that really mark your growth as an individual, and you don't even realize that they dictate a severe difference in maturity level from one stage of your life to the next. Just a couple weeks ago I received an invitation for a wedding that was addressed to me, plus one. This was quite the shocker because I for one, wasn't even aware that I had been booted from the kids' table. Now instead of mulling over what to wear, I have to go shopping for a date as well. Damn, adulthood is tiring.

Adulthood is also expensive. I feel like I'm getting billed for everythinig these days. The most miniscule of life's novelties cost money. Just this week, parking passes at my place of work became a requirement for the lot. So now, not only does it cost an arm and a leg to buy, wash, and feed my car with gasoline, I cannot even drive it without paying additional costs anymore. The ultimate irony of this however, is that I am driving my car in the first place to get payed. At this point, I'm grateful that oxygen is free and the city of Columbus has not found some obscure way to tax that as well.

I know that I shouldn't complain. In reality, adulthood isn't so bad. You get to stay up past midnight, come and go as you please and eat whatever junk food your over the hill heart desires. Well, unless you enjoy having sex, and then I would suggest you put down that junior bacon chesseburger.


Meem